


"Fuck the Cook," so says the apron

by Pistol_the_Dimension_Hopper



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Bondage, Even if we all know it's our personal guilty pleasures, F/M, God I hate tagging, HEAVY sex descriptions, I feel bad enough posting it, Like, Please no underage readers, Sex, You know you're just as dirty as me, You're the one reading this, it's a one-shot please don't expect much, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:35:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28834968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pistol_the_Dimension_Hopper/pseuds/Pistol_the_Dimension_Hopper
Summary: Just a One-shot to help cure my writer's block and tend to my seething fans who are no-doubt displeased insofar with a lack of promised update in Radio Roommate..So....Whelp........Enjoy?
Relationships: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Original Female Character(s), Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 55





	"Fuck the Cook," so says the apron

He knew it was going to end poorly.

And yet..

_ And yet here he stood, microphone-staff in hand, ears back and his smile strained to its limits as he desperately searched within himself for the courage to knock on the damned door. _

He’d cased the Spider’s routine for several days for this particular venture. He wanted to make sure he could ask for the..  _ Assistance _ .. Out of view of  _ everyone _ , but  _ especially without her noticing. _

By this time every night, which could very well classify as the early hours of the morning, the spider would return to his room to recharge the battery to his insufferable mouth and antics for the next day.

Sucking in the deepest breath he’d ever remembered taking, he held it, rapped ‘shave-and-a-haircut’ and perked himself up as brightly as he could manage under all of this  _ distress. _

The music playing behind the door halted, and he could hear the sound of aggravated muttering just in time for the door to swing out. A rather uncharacteristically  _ aggravated _ spider stood in a mint-green face mask and his hair in a towel turban. Alastor took note of his lack of anything else but a robe and pointedly kept his eyes on the startled-looking Arachnid’s.

“Angel, dear fellow! It appears I am in need of your..  _ Assistance.. _ ”

It took a moment, a moment Alastor was using to regret everything he’d ever done in the world, living or dead, to deserve the absolute  _ torture _ it was to stand in front of  _ this man _ for  _ help _ with a  _ smile. _

_ Rosie was out of the question. She was a lady, and while she was a wonderful assistance in smoothing over any horrible  _ **_hate_ ** _ his darling might have felt toward him for almost killing her on accident, this sort of situation was never a polite thing to discuss, over tea or otherwise. _

_ Husker was not an option, either. The feline would hold it over his head for the rest of eternity. He’d never live it down. The most he’d attributed for this absolution attempt was telling the feline to provide him with a bottle of whatever he found out was Wisteria’s current favorite wine. He’d been given bourbon and had dutifully set it beside the bed on a small table with glasses and a charmed pail to keep the ice forever cold. _

_ Nifty was little more than a child, and also a lady. _

_ He’d never ask Vagatha for anything of this sort and he doubted Charlotte even knew the extent of the relationship he and Wisteria shared, either from before or even now. _

_ This was his last available option and he HATED IT. _

“Whad’a’ya want, Al?” the blush-colored sinner was suspicious, and rightfully so. The Radio Demon was not one to proposition  _ anyone _ , and the last thing Angel knew, was that Smiles had started to hound at the heels of Sapphire and was getting nowhere, quick.

Which, to be fair, Angel saw what the fuss was about. She was a sweet girl all around, and made some good fuckin’ grub. She also had a bangin’ ass, one he wouldn’t be  _ too _ hard-pressed to satisfy if she paid him, but still not his preferred cup a’ Joe.

It was more than a little surprising, however, to be on the end of something like this when the Strawberry Pimp was  _ clearly _ smitten with the babe.

“Did Bluebell finally kick your ass to the curb?” he asked playfully, draping himself over the door edge and delighting in the visible cringe the sinner gave to take a step back. “I would prefer a head’s up to be presentable, but I can take a last-minute fling before bed..”

“No-no-no,” Alastor shook his head so fast he absently wondered if his monocle might smack Angel in the face  _ for _ him. “I am in need of..  _ Advice.. _ While your talents have been assured to me as  _ professional _ , and my darling has acclaimed them to be  _ respectable.. _ I am incapable of performing any such actions with you or anyone other than her.”

Angel, taken aback by the hurried  _ word-vomit _ that was this man’s denial, felt a sly grin creeping up on his face.

“You think my job’s  _ respectable-” _

“Any-who-!” Alastor interrupted with a crackle of static and his volume raised. No one else lived on this floor or within hearing range around it, so he was unlikely to have any surprise listeners. “I have come in regards to a problem I’m having, and I would like your assistance in solving it. Would you mind if we had this conversation inside? It is a rather  _ delicate _ matter, and I would like the opportunity to take any notes I may need.”

He held a regular composition book in his hands, the very one you’d given him for his notes those two plus years ago. As well as a red bic pen.

Angel  _ really _ didn’t know what the fuck was going on at this point, so he crossed both sets of arms under his fluff and over his stomach and narrowed his eyes.

“What’s in it for me?”

Alastor waved his hand and pulled a large sum of cash from his rather extensive savings, holding it out without a word.

“Deal.”

The spider plucked up the offer, stuffed it between the mounds of fluff on his chest and turned to strut inside the room, leaving the door open.

“Hurry it up, Al-! I don’t got all night-!”

Alastor glared at the door, readied himself for this  _ ridiculous  _ and  _ aggravating _ circumstance, and stepped inside.

Chester shut the door, and he uncapped his pen with a sharp inhale.

“First,” he read off the small bullet-list of questions he’d created, a system she had helped him create during the sexuality and romance talk back in the cabin living room. “When a woman is aggravated with you, it’s recommended to give them flowers, a sincere apology, and food. None of this had the desired effect, and while things have smoothed over for the most part, it’s become..  _ Distressingly _ dry within the intimacy portion of our relationship-”

“Woah-woah,” Angel cut him off with a hand, plopped onto his bed and staring slack-jawed at the desk and chair the demon had materialized and settled into nearer to his vanity and make-up shelves than his bed. “You’re  _ togetha’ _ togetha’? I thought she  _ hated _ you?”

“She was incredibly upset with me for the longest time,” Alastor nodded with ease, though inwardly he was cringing at the absolute truth the statement would have held not a fortnight back. “But we’ve cleared the air, smoothed out our differences and have decided to start fresh-! I’ve come to ask a very specific set of questions, and I know you would like to be left alone to sleep, so if you could allow me to ask them and write down my answers I shall be  _ perfectly _ capable of leaving sooner-!”

Angel hummed, furrowed his eyebrows and leaned back into his pillows as Fat Nuggets waddled across the bed to settle in his lap. He absently pet the pigs’ fine fur with a hand as he nodded. “Go ahead then.”

“Firstly, what would be most appropriate in beginning an intimate relationship from a renewed start?” Alastor asked, a bit awkwardly as he glared down at the page. There was little way to word this properly. “We have been intimate in the past, but due to the situation, it has completely halted. I’d like to return to that level of intimacy, but every time I’ve offered, either subtly or openly, she’s shut me down. What do you suggest?”

“Have you tried lookin’ the part?” Angel asked after several long seconds of thought.

Alastor blinked, surprised and confused. “Beg y’pardon?”

“Some people need to be tempted into sex,” Angel continued, a little put-off by the fact that he was explaining it but rolling back into the fact that if he was confident in nothing else, he was confident in sex. “Are you walkin’ around in that ratty coat and monocle when you ask or do you go the extra mile to look nice? Have you asked her about what she’d like to do, whether she’s even interested anymore in that? Have you asked if she even feels lust anymore or have you asked about what she might not even  _ like _ anymore? Dyin’ affects, people, Al, this shit is important.”

Alastor was..  _ Thrown? _

_ Was he actually having an intellectual conversation with Angel Dust? _

_ It seemed rather unreal. _

_ Oh well, best not to waste the advice. _

_ He was speaking to an expert, after all. _

How much he would need to pay to keep the man silent, however, was a question he’d ask himself  _ after _ he’d received his answers.

“Could you expend on the ‘look the part’ portion of your statement?”

* * *

Your feet were tired and your back hurt like.. Well, like Hell. You’d just gotten back to the hotel after spending the majority of the day with Velvet, baking and helping the girl post pictures of the treats to her Sinstagram.  _ Corny, you knew. _

On the plus side, you’d managed to put the leftovers in the crate you were carrying, and Vox had dropped you off to make sure you got back safe.

Sometimes you wondered how they could be so sweet to you, but then you remembered that you occasionally fed them and dismissed the mental question.

Opening the door with a touch of power, you closed it with the length of your tail, smiling as it shut gently and delighting in the thick carpet beneath your feet as you lifted one foot, vanished the heel, and put it down to repeat the process with the other.

Knowing they would be in your boudoir in your room, you walked happily barefoot past the stairway, tossing Husk, who was out cold at the bar, a weary glance before walking to put the crate in the kitchen, you settled your slight muzzle on the top of it again and worked your way to your sanctuary. A flash of pink at the tops of the stairs meant Angel was near, but he didn’t call out to you, and he sounded as if he were walking fast in the other direction, so you didn’t care. You were at your destination.

The sign still sat upon the door, loudly and elegantly saying  _ STAY OUT OF MY KITCHEN _ in thick blue cursive over soft cream colored canvas. Nifty had even shined up a nice golden frame from the piles of hotel junk for it to hang.

You still think fondly upon the moment Alastor realized you were furious enough not to want him near you while you cooked.

You had  _ almost _ calmed enough from your fury to pat his head.

_ Almost. _

Ever since he’d gotten onto his  _ knees _ for you, you’d acquiesce to  _ some _ attempts at forgiveness, on the condition he attended relationship therapy.

One does not nearly marry the love of their life and lose all affection for them.

You may have spent eight months in Hell on your own, and two with the girls before he showed up on Extermination day, but you were still that soft little human sitting on the porch of your cabin, wrapped in blankets and sipping tea as music poured from the speakers of his radio.

Shoving the thoughts aside, you pushed open the door with another brush of power and set the box onto the long marble slab that acted as your countertop. Tossing the kitchen a glance, you grinned brightly at the shine of it. You really liked Nifty, she kept your spaces clean when you gave her permission to enter them and it looked like she did the dishes after serving the dinner you’d prepped the night before.

Carefully putting your sweets away, you arranged a stack of muffins onto a wide plate and put it upon the kitchen island, leaving a trace of magic to keep them fresh before leaving the room with a long, relieved sigh.

You needed a shower.

Trudging up to the fourth floor, you walked over to your room and casually tested the lock, as you always did before you entered.

You froze.

_ It was unlocked. _

_ Someone was dying a second death tonight. _

Pushing it open casually, as if you hadn’t noticed a thing, you scanned your eyes around the room, hand curled around a materialized sword.

_ Video Game logic for the win- _

Everything within you  _ jolted _ as you stared at the floor, where a trail of blue and black flower petals were scattered invitingly toward your bed.

_ Fire hazard, _ your mind registered at the path lined in black and white alternating candles alight with soft blue flames.

_..Ovary hazard. _

_ Video Game logic did not prepare you for this. _

The sword fell out of your limp hand with a clatter, and you felt your mouth filling with drool as the sound of sultry saxophones and piano strings filled the air, your golden-brown eyes settling, and then finally  _ locking _ on the picture sprawled invitingly out along your plush grey bed.

_ Fuuuuuuuuuuck. _

Slowly, you raked your eyes down. A black leather harness was kept loosely over the entire ensemble, a circular monocle held in place by a small chain. A pair of black leather gloves coming up past elbows the color of peach grey skin. Familiar, dark scars slashed over his upper arms and around his shoulders, and you can only  _ assume _ they were in the same place upon his chest, because it was mildly covered by a black apron. You couldn’t read the words on it quite yet, he was posed with one arm above his head and grasping the headboard and the other clenching the fabric over where his heart would be.

Long black slacks covered him down to his feet, and you noticed his usual black dress shoes were replaced with black combat boots.

His hair seemed  _ fluffed _ , for no better word, shined with some product or another that made it almost glow in the subtle light of the candles in a slanted, circular formation on the bedside table, also illuminating a bottle of bourbon, your favorite, and two short glasses.

His antlers, usually so small and left to accent his ears, were grown out substantially, his ears flickering under your attention as you dragged your eyes slowly up and down what was presented to you.

_ Please.. For the love of Satan.. _

_ Let there be a bow on his tail.. _

“What the  _ fuck _ , Al?” you whispered.

“Welcome home, Darling~” he purred.

_ What fuckin’ twilight-zone bullshit dream was this? _

_ Did Val slip you an edible?! _

“Uh, huh,” you murmured, stooping down low to pick up the sword and prop it up awkwardly into your umbrella stand.  _ So this was happening. _

Moving your hands to your coat, you began the lengthy process of undoing the double-buttons, a necessary precaution against pick-pockets but one that seemed  _ incredibly  _ aggravating, now.

Making your way to your boudoir, you listened to him purr behind you some more, the soft crackle of static  _ ever _ so faint upon your fur.

“I’ve been waiting for you to get home..”

His voice was all honey and sin and you could only silently swallow your mouthful of drool and work on  _ opening the buttons faster, the fuck were you thinking-?! _

_ Oh, right. _

_ Why would I dress up sexy to meet with my friends? Who am I trying to impress? _

Absolutely no one.

_ You were in your comfy underwear-! Nothing matched-! You had chocolate and blue-frosting smeared on your t-shirt. This is the worst moment for this to happen-! _

Goddamnit, Al..

“So, what brought this on?” your voice was painfully casual and mildly disinterested as you tried to  _ drastically _ downplay how badly you were being affected by this.  _ This FUCKER KNEW YOU LIKED CERTAIN CLOTHES ON PEOPLE, HOW DID HE DISCOVER YOUR BLACK LEATHER FETISH? _

“I wanted to spend some time with you.”

_ This fucker keeps purring and you were NOT OKAY WITH IT. _

You could feel the static sinking into your muscles and making your fingers twitch, but you kept your back straight and tried to keep your breathing even as you finally - _ finally motherfucker- _ got to pull off that  _ stupid _ coat and throw it halfhazardly into the laundry bin. Working your fingers through the rack of clothes, you tried to think about anything  _ but _ the person sprawled out on your bed. You could hear the sheets shifting behind you and the sound of fabric against chain and-  _ fuck he was making this hard- _

“Uh-huh,” you repeated. Like a broken record.

_ Uh-huh. Uh-huh. I love your voice, Dearest, but please.. _

“I thought I’d try to..  _ Apologize _ , again.. For the way I’d treated you when you found me..”

You sucked in a slow breath, held it for a second to dismiss the memory of swiping claws and the painful experience of trying to replicate Harry Potter Apparition and focussed solely on bending over to pull off your pants, forgetting you have a tail  _ again, _ and having to wriggle-hop in place for a second to keep from ripping the snug black slacks.

Your green t-shirt was next, pulled up over your shoulders and head so you could toss it into the bin as well. You flicked your wrist to send the pants in, and lifted a foot to plant it on the boudoir’s cabinet bottom and begin the process of  _ gently _ easing your thin stockings down your thighs and legs without ripping them in the points of your claws.

You heard a stutter of breath behind you, completely ignoring it as you tossed the socks in one by one and gathered up your things for bed.

_ Pajama sweats, check. _

_ New t-shirt. _

_ Did you want socks? _

_ Think of anything but the snack in your bed. _

“Darling~?”

Had you been anyone else, you would have missed the tension in his voice.

You paused, half-turned to go into your personal bathroom and your tail awkwardly lifted to fold around the front of your hips like a third limb to protect your “modesty”.

Turning your head to face your bed again, you blinked slowly at the way he was presenting himself, now on his stomach, with one arm stretched forward, wrist nearly hanging off of the bed with fingers beckoning you forward like a naughty cat. 

The other arm was curled up around his chest, hiding his chin but showing off his small, sultry smile.

_ You were either going to eat him, or be eaten by him. _

_ Fffuuuuuuuuck. _

“Al, what the fuck?” you repeated, your voice now an acceptable room-level and your spine becoming as hard as steel in the face of this-  _ this- _

_ Blatant attempt at getting you to fuck him into a second death, really.. _

“Who put you up to this?” your demand was sharper than you’d intended, and you were pretty sure your claws were piercing into your new pajamas.

You had to take a slow, deep breath again when he sat up, bracing his weight on his glove-covered palms and showing off the words on his apron.

_ Fuck the Cook? _

_ Oh, he was so getting his ass beat. _

“Was it Angel?” you asked sternly. “Did Angel put you up to this?”

“You’re the only angel on my mind tonight-”

“Drop the purr or I’m jumping you,” the hiss from your lips was almost feral.

His ears wilted back, and you watched him visibly shutter back into his normal, awkward self, slumping forward slightly and lifting an arm to cover his eyes and block your expression from his mind.

“...I take it you don’t like it?”

“I’m not saying a word about it,” you argued, your voice becoming stern, but far more relaxed with the forced sexual-deviant-tones gone. “And you need a better sex-talk coach. That felt like a cringey set-up to a triple-X film.”

Al visibly winced, and you let out a sharp sigh before walking forward and settling onto the edge of the bed. “Tell me what’s going on.”

He slid his eyes to you, sat up formally and settled his palms into his lap, sitting up straight as a lightning rod and just as charged with energy.

“I had thought I might..  _ Entice _ you into sharing a bed again,” he offered the words as if you were a dentist pulling unruly teeth.

“Al, this is  _ not _ you,” you muttered, reaching out a hand to take hold of the chain- _ that is a collar- _

_ Fuuuuck. _

You gave it a tiny tug, feeling something within you  _ twitch _ a little at the way his breath caught in his throat.

_ No. NO-! Bad Wisteria-! This is not okay-! _

“Isn’t this a little  _ drastic _ ?” you asked. Your voice was small as you spoke and you felt your other hand’s fingers itching to bury into his shiny-looking hair.

“I thought if I pulled out all the stops, you’d be more pleased than upset..”

His voice trailed off as you tugged the chain again, and he leaned forward as you continued the faint pull until his face was just inches from yours. The chain gave an inch of slack as he overshot your direction, but he froze again as you locked eyes.

“Alastor,” you breathed.

He swallowed.

“You are a snack on a good day,” you pushed his shoulder back casually, watching him topple like a tree onto his back, arms splayed out wide as if all of his puppet strings had been cut and his face burning  _ red. _

“You don’t need to dress up like a meal.”

Your lips closed over his the second he tried to open his mouth to argue, and you swallowed his surprised moan with a press of your tongue to his  _ sharp, sharp _ teeth.

Blood slid from a small cut in the lithe muscle, and you chuckled breathlessly as he gave a faint protest, then froze, and pressed forward to bring more of your tongue into his mouth.

Your hand drifted down the strap of his harness, fingers tracing the expensive leather until you’d reached the end to loop a finger around the belt-like portion to tug  _ up _ .

His hips were thrust up against yours with the force of it and you cackled softly at the sound he made as his head hit the bed again.

You licked your lips, smearing a small touch of blood along the flesh and watching his eyes lock upon the black-stained flesh before you were crawling up and hovering above him, your arm holding the clothes tossing them to the floor without a care so you could better steady yourself above him.

He grumbled faintly at the very obvious space you were putting between your bodies, but his fingers were digging into your nice sheets and you did not like that.

“Arms.  _ Up. _ ”

_ Yes Ma’am, _ was his immediate thought as he felt a power different to his own snaking around his wrists and tugging them upwards as fast as a whip, a cord springing to life around the thick leather gloves and forcing them tightly together far above his head.

_ Oh, dear.. _

“Good boy,” you whispered.

“D..Darling?” he asked faintly.

“Hush now,” you chastised him with a soft boop to his nose with the fleshy black pad of your pointer finger. “If you’re going to dress like a meal and act like a meal, I’m going to  _ treat _ you like a meal.”

Alastor was never one to second-guess his own decisions, but he was wondering, in the back of his mind, how this may have turned out had he sucked it up to ask Husker for advice.

_ You looked like you were about to devour your favorite pasta.. _

He shivered.

* * *

Angel silently pulled away from the bedroom door, lowering his phone with the emergency blackmail and chuckling darkly at the shining gold knob.

Mission Accomplished.

_ Now, time to cuddle with Fat Nuggets and start his downtime routine.. _

* * *

Alastor felt as if he were losing his mind.

He remembered  _ most _ of what led to this situation. Staking out Angel’s routine and talking to him being the first straw, the next few  _ thousand _ being the entire  _ week _ it took for the spider to “coach” him into displaying seductive poses.

Finding out which day you would be gone to give them prep time was another straw.

The last one to stand his patience was the way you had tried to calm the situation down to something he was  _ far _ more comfortable doing.

_ Talking. _

But what made him  _ snap _ .

_ The final straw.. _

It was when your lips settled over his heart, the apron flipped up over his face absently as if you couldn’t even be  _ bothered _ to  _ allow _ him to  _ watch _ .

Your lips pressed softly over his heart, beating heavily and fast, and he felt everything in him  _ soar. _

His chest arched up into your lovely pressing, and he could feel the breath of your chuckle and the pads of your fingers and palms as you put them onto his sides and held him down  _ firmly. _

_ “Ah-ah, _ ” you teased, tutting your tongue disapprovingly and slowly dragging the soft leather of your hand-paw pads down his skin, watching intently and with delight as the fine hair on his skin stood up with a shudder of his muscles.

You pressed another kiss over his heart, feeling the pulse of it beneath your lips before you were tracing them to the right. You pressed a faint kiss to his nipple, giggling when his chest jumped with the attention and moving to press a kiss to the other one.

Another jump.

“Stay still,” you warned softly.

His breathing was becoming louder, and you could visibly  _ see _ the strain of his muscles as he tried to lock himself into place. You slowly lowered yourself further and further down the bed, sitting up onto your knees and reaching to unhook your bra to toss it away. You’d leave your panties for now.

Your fingers drummed an absent tune against his flesh as they felt first up, then dragged down slow, claws catching on the material of his pants before they were  _ ripping _ clean through and  _ tearing them down. _

_ Alastor whimpered. _

You gave another soft shushing noise as you noticed the lack of unmentionables, flashing his covered face a smirk and delighting in the soft flutter of fabric that showed he was breathing through his mouth.

“Dressing up all nice for me,” you murmured, mostly to yourself as you continued to slice the fabric away from his legs. You saw the muscles in his calves twitch as you neared his feet, and as a reward for staying still, you pressed a kiss to each of his knees before flicking the fabric away.

The pants were little more than strips of fabric beneath and around his legs, so you slowly felt up the length of them again before settling between his calves with your hips.

You heard him swallow, tracing your thumbs up the inside of each leg before parting them.

“You’ll tell me to stop if you don’t like it,” your voice was sharp with its seriousness, and you felt his entire body  _ twitch _ with the inflection of your words. “Since I don’t want to spend five minutes thinking up safe words, you’re going to play by the color system.. You know your colors, don’t you?”

Your fingers were slowly nearing his hips, and when he didn’t respond immediately, you dug the tips of your manicured claws into his skin.

His hip  _ jumped. _

“Yes, dear,” he assured you. The words were strained and strangled, but it was an audible answer, so you’d accept it.

“Good boy.”

You pressed another kiss to his heart, and he let out a sigh that sounded just on the edge of a moan.

Dragging your lips down, you began pressing fluttering kisses down,  _ down _ along the faint trail of red until it grew thicker.

Alastor’s back  _ arched _ off of the bed as you pressed a kiss to the tip of his member, your warm breath fluttering across the skin. He was already half-hard, it was adorable.

You continued to pepper the flesh between his legs with kisses, occasionally pulling away to his muffled protest to press firm, open-mouthed kisses to his thighs, sucking faint bruises here and there in a pattern he didn’t immediately recognize, his mind far too clouded to recognize anything but  _ Wisteria _ and  _ pleasure _ .

The moment your tongue fluttered out to tease the tip of his dick was the first time you’d heard him whimper in nearly a year. You smirked to yourself for a moment, enjoying the strain of his hips as he forced himself to stay still and obey.

_ Such a darling lover you had.. _

Licking your hands softly, you set to pressing his member between them, gently, carefully coaxing him into full hardness as his breathing picked up and his hips twitched maddeningly.

Every so often, you would dip your head down to press a chaste kiss to the tip, catching a soft touch of wetness on your lips after the fifth time and giggling quietly before you licked up along his length and slipped the head into your mouth.

Your boyfriend  _ yowled _ .

Alastor was not a quiet person. He had  _ never _ been a quiet person. It just wasn’t  _ him. _ Silence was near physically  _ impossible.  _ Everything he did must be loud, sincere, and center-of-attention.

It stood to reason that the same would apply to sex.

You continued to suck him into your mouth, mildly thankful for your muzzle for the first time as it gave you  _ much _ more breathing room for blow jobs.

Alastor, true to his frame, was incredibly endowed, you remembered the first time you’d  _ seen _ it and the time after you’d  _ felt _ it, knowing well it would be a struggle to fit the entire thing in your mouth as a human.

Being an otter, albeit six inches shorter than your first life, was a blessing in disguise. Your mouth was wider, your teeth blunt, but well-shaped, and your tongue long and flat.

To Alastor, your mouth was close to Heaven.

It was taking Herculean efforts to stay still, per your instructions. Faintly, he wondered what you would do if he intentionally disobeyed, but there was the faint possibility that you would stop completely, and he didn’t feel he had the courage to try with even the slightest chance of that, at this point.

Warmth and wetness surrounded his cock, and he choked back a groan of appreciation as you gave a particularly angled suck, causing him to see stars beneath the fabric of the flipped apron.

_ Was this what Heaven felt like? _

He could feel himself growing close;  _ pathetic, really, but he’d gone so long without.. _

And then.

_ Ohoho.. _

_ Then you started using your tongue. _

Alastor  _ whimpered. _

You began humming softly as you started tracing shapes into the hardened flesh of his member, eyes playful and heated as you watched sweat bead upon his skin and his limbs and torso tremble with the  _ force _ of his will to stay  _ still-! _

Such a good boy deserves a reward, didn’t they?

“When I count to ten,” you rasped, feeling the result of his cock having been half-way to choking you,  _ even now _ , and loving  _ every second of it. It made your voice sexier. _ “You are going to come. Am I understood?”

Alastor was panting, cursing the skies and the stars for the way you’d  _ stopped- why did you stop-no- _

“Alastor,” you repeated sharply, your hand returning to his cock as the other trailed your nails up his hip and dug in slightly in warning. “Tell me your color.”

“Green,” he rushed, flushed and sharp and having a hard time taking air into his covered lips.  _ “Terribly green, too green..” _

“When I count to  _ ten, _ ” you repeated sternly with a flex of your palm around his cock, which was visibly weeping with precum. “You are going to  _ cum. _ Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes,” he breathed.

You smacked his hip sharply, and he yelped in surprise.

“Yes,  _ what?” _

_ “Yes my darling,” _ he whimpered. “My amour, my sapphire, my dearest, my-”

“One,” you cut him off, using your thumbs to start rubbing circles into the sides of his cock as you started to jerk him off, picking up the pace from your earlier attention and visibly throwing him off as his back tried to arch and aborted the movement with a jerk of his hips.

“-goddess, my star, my shining-”

“Two.”

His breath hitched, but once Al got started, it generally took murder or an iron skillet to stop.  _ You would know. _

“-beacon of pure  _ imagination-” _

“Three.”

“My sweetheart, my partner-”

_ “Four.” _

“ _ Ahh-! M-My valentine, my-” _

“Five.”

_ “-dish, Mon cœur-” _

“Six.”

_ “-Ma moitié, Mon trésor-” _

“Seven.”

_ “Mon bébé-” _

“Eight.”

_ “Ma biche-” _

“Nine,” you warned sternly.

_ “Mon ange,” _ he whimpered.

“Ten.”

It was almost instantaneous, as if he had held himself on the cusp for the sole reason of meeting your expectations. Your lips closed around the tip of his cock just as you’d said the word, and the thrust of his hips upwards through his  _ electrical _ outburst not only took out the majority of the candles and made the radio on the dresser fritz out in a small explosion of smoke; he had thrust deep enough into your maw that you’d hardly felt the touch of his semen until it had hit the back of your throat.

You swallowed down every bit dutifully, gently cleaning him up with a few soft licks and listening to the pleasant rumbling of his chest as he purred in absolute bliss. The radio was still smoking and sputtering static, so you dismissed it with a wave of your hand and sat up, licking your lips in nostalgia.

Reaching up, you pulled the apron down to cover his stomach again, smirking at the crumpled request on the face of it and drinking in the sight of your fucked-out boyfriend. His ears were so far back you were certain they’d glued themselves to his head, the antlers curled around his head retreated back to their usual size and his hair had become so sweaty and drenched it had been plastered to the sides of his face and matted to his forehead.

You tut your tongue softly, leaning up until you could press your lips to his, helping him chase the kiss and allowing him a soft taste of himself before you pulled back with a faint smile.

“Your timing sucks, by the way,” you grinned, snapping with both hands at once and vanishing the binds around his wrists, allowing his arms to stiffly lower and settle around your bare waist. “Were you so in need of my attention that you had to bribe  _ Angel Dust _ of all people to help you throw this together? I would have settled for you inviting me to your room for tea and finding you naked. This was delightful, but a bit over the top, babes.”

“It worked, didn’t it,” he muttered, ears still back and his words slurred as he stayed lying back in your incredibly comfortable bed. “You brushed off every other attempt I’ve made of becoming closer in this aspect..”

“Because I’m either working or tired  _ after _ working,” you scoffed, gently easing the gloves off of each hand and folding them gently, letting them float softly to the floor beside your discarded clothes. Next came the apron, and you were careful to fold that too. You seemed to have snapped the harness somehow with your claws, so you gently mended it with magic and settled it atop the pile. Vanishing the remains of his trousers and prying off each boot, you let him doze for a moment as you tidied everything up. You felt a touch at the small of your back, and tossed your lover a dubious smile.

“Not tonight, sweetheart,” you sighed, leaning forward again to press a firm kiss to his forehead, after pushing his wet hair away first, of course. “We’re both tired, and you look like you’d hardly manage a half a round..”

“I have my hands-” he started to argue, but was quickly hushed by your lips and your hands scooping up both of his and holding them tenderly.

He felt incredibly cared for in that moment, and felt nothing but thick, cloying  _ love _ choking every vein in his body in place of his blood.

“Cuddles tonight,” you murmured, pulling back and moving to get to your feet. “I’ll get a rag and things to clean you up a bit.. We can play a bit in the morning if you’re up to it, but I want nothing but your arms around me right now..”

Alastor’s chest gave a soft rumble of contentment as you waved your hands in an errant pattern to summon a washrag and a basin of water, dutifully and gently rubbing it across his skin to clear it of the sweat. You run your fingers through his hair to dry it, even coursing a bit of magic into the thick of it to clean it as your nails gave him a scalp massage.

He was putty in your palms by the time you slipped in mostly naked beside him, turning to press a kiss to his forehead a final time and smiling to yourself as he burrowed down under the comforter and found his place at the fluff of your chest.

You could both take a bath in the morning.

The next morning, you awoke to warmth licking insistently and enthusiastically at your center, and you were treated to all of that and more as Alastor thanked you profusely for the wonderful night previous.

Again.

And Again.

_ And Again. _

_ FIN. _

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Inspired by THIS: [ https://twitter.com/angkis_ayy/status/1299679051045634049 ](https://twitter.com/angkis_ayy/status/1299679051045634049) Tweet.


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